


And the Law Won

by CR Noble (erudite12)



Series: I Fought the Law [5]
Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Detective!AU, F/M, Hunter!Reader, detective!dean, forensic tech!castiel, lawyer!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 01:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11220549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erudite12/pseuds/CR%20Noble
Summary: Y/N has been arrested and has a little conversation with Detective Smith while she waits for her lawyer to show up.





	And the Law Won

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the interrogation room, handcuffed to the polished steel table. Long enough for you to be thirsty. Hopefully, Sam would be there soon. You were getting tired of your reflection staring back at you from the two-way mirror. You were definitely tired of thinking about how royally fucked you were. Sam was a damn good lawyer, but you knew even he probably couldn’t get you out of this mess.

You didn’t bother to look over when the door clicked and swung open to reveal Detective Smith. He carried a Styrofoam cup in each hand and you even saw the hint of a smile on his face out of the corner of your eye. Either he was here to play good cop or he was here to gloat. He sat down in the chair on the other side of the table and slid one of the cups toward you. You pointedly ignored both Dean and the drink he offered.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” he said, taking a sip from his own cup and smirking at your silence.

You knew he was expecting you to ignore him, but you hadn’t realized that doing so would be this difficult. Dean had the kind of presence that commanded the attention of everyone in the room. It didn’t help that he was just as sexy now as he was the night you met in that bar. God, what the hell was wrong with you? This man was about to be responsible for putting you behind bars for the rest of your life, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how his hands felt on your skin. The silence and the tension became too much, so you gave up trying to ignore Dean and reached for the cup.

“Thank you,” you said and took a sip of the steaming black coffee that tasted far too good to have come from the coffee pot at the station.

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” Dean replied. He sat back in the chair, looking at you for a long moment before speaking again. “Your attorney is on his way.”

“Please, Dean,” you said, raising an eyebrow, “feel free to tell me more things I already know.”

“Look, Y/N, I just want to have a conversation with you. Completely off the record. I swear nothing you tell me will leave this room.”

What was he playing at? You glanced at the two-way mirror and then back at Dean.

“There is no one on the other side of that glass,” Dean said. He leaned forward over the table. “I’m having a really hard time reconciling all of this with the girl I met at the bar. I mean, I’m generally a pretty good judge of character-”

“You’re kidding me, right?” You interrupted, staring into Dean’s green eyes. “Don’t you dare presume to know me because of one drunken fuck, detective.”

“It’s not just that,” he started. Your statement had stung him, you could see it in his eyes. “I followed your trail, Y/N. I saw the bodies. All of them, including the ones you didn’t put there. Every single one of those sons of bitches you put down had it coming. I need to know. Why? Why’d you do it, Y/N?”

Everything about him exuded sincerity, and for just a split second you considered telling him the truth. Maybe he would believe you. Maybe he would even understand. The moment passed quickly. Just because he wanted to know why you did what you did, didn’t mean he would believe you.

“Try me,” he challenged.

You knew you shouldn’t say anything at all. You definitely weren’t going to tell him the truth, but apparently you were incapable of keeping your mouth shut. Before you knew it, you were leaning across the table with a smirk on your face, whispering, “Because I’m Batman.”

“You think you’re funny?” Dean asked, obviously unamused.

“I do, actually.” Your smirk only grew as you sat back in your chair. “In fact, I think I’m adorable.”

“I just-” Dean was interrupted by the clicking of the door.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the opening door revealed a very tall, long-haired man in a very expensive suit.

“Detective Smith, I presume?” Sam asked, “I hope you weren’t questioning my client without counsel present.”

“No,” the detective replied with a meaningful look in your direction, “No, of course not.”

“Good. Now, kindly remove those cuffs. I don’t believe they will be necessary,” Sam ordered with a vague gesture. Dean just sighed and pulled the key from his pocket.

You rubbed your wrists gratefully when Dean removed the cuffs. You couldn’t quite hear the whispered conversation, but a few seconds later Dean left the room, leaving you with Sam.

“Hey, Sammy,” you said with a pitiful attempt at a smile, “Long time, no see.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, walking over to take the chair Dean had just occupied.

“I know you’re a good lawyer, Sam, but I don’t think you can get me out of this. Maybe I should just tell the detective the truth. Even if he doesn’t believe me, I’d rather be in a mental institution for the rest of my life than a prison.”

“You can’t tell him the truth, Y/N,” Sam said, producing a manila file from his briefcase, “I looked over their evidence. It’s all circumstantial, but there is a lot of it.”

“The wolves I was hunting are still out there. Do you think you can get me out of here tonight? Just long enough to finish the job?”

“I can try. I don’t know. If I can’t, do you have another way out?”

You were about to answer, but Dean chose that moment to walk back into the room. He had a determined look on his face when he looked over at you and Sam. The sincerity you had seen in him before was gone, and only a hardness that you didn’t recognize was left.

“You guys done with your little pow-wow? I’d like to get this show on the road,” he said, leaning back against the glass.

“Of course,” Sam said, “I’d like to start by discussing the release of my client.”

“Release?” Dean chuckled. “You are joking, right? Your client is being held on at least 4 murder charges, which is enough to hold her without including the credit card fraud, identity theft, and impersonating a federal official. She’s not going anywhere but jail.”

“I read the charges,” Sam replied, “All of your evidence is circumstantial.”

“And its more than enough to charge her. She will be held for her arraignment.”

“Come on, detective. Your evidence is not going to hold up in court. I will tear a hole in your eyewitness statements so wide, your entire case will fall through it.”

Dean took three steps forward and leaned in close to Sam. “It doesn’t have to hold up in court for me to keep her, Mr. Wesson. Now, does your client have anything to say in her defense?”

You knew Sam was fighting a losing battle. Dean was right, there was no way they were going to let you leave. It was time to start making escape plans.

“Sam,” you said, “it’s okay.” You reached across the table and put a hand on his arm before looking up at Dean. “You may as well book me now, because I don’t have a damned thing to say to you.”

Hopefully, that would be the last you ever saw of Dean Smith.


End file.
